


As long as your eyes meet mine

by screamingiminlovewithyou



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: F/M, i literally said i wouldn't write anymore yet here i am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21856345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamingiminlovewithyou/pseuds/screamingiminlovewithyou
Summary: “So, what if I was staring?” Peter relented after a moment. “I like looking at you, Jones. Isn’t that common knowledge at this point?”“I guess so”. She smirked, “Just like hearing you admit it.”There was something so smug in that remark, and Peter could just see the smirk on her face without even looking at her. He let out a laugh, a quick huff of a thing that he knew MJ could feel reverberating in his chest. “Little shit.”
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 70





	As long as your eyes meet mine

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello, hola, bonjour, guten tag!!
> 
> Wasn't planning on writing this but here it is, needed something to keep me distracted

It starts at night.

One of those nights,

A night for remembering, for forgetting, for keeping in your heart. A night of learning, and knowing. But more learning than anything else. And a night of finding the new within the old.

Some of Peter’s favorite nights were nights like these. Nights of fresh twilights washing the grounds of the barns in starlight and crickets chirping and laying on the couch with his girlfriend, the echo of that holy laughter ringing in his ears.

He barely even remembered what he’d said, just that it had caused that laugh to spill from MJ’s lips. the one that was reckless, unafraid, too loud to be polite and too free to care. Peter thought (scratch that, knew) he loved Michelle most when she was this way. Unbridled. Maybe it was because in moments like these, it felt like he understood her more than ever. Maybe it was because in moments like these, he barely understood her at all. The unrestrained version of his girlfriend, was a different creature, beautiful and intangible.

Michelle lifted her head off of Peter’s chest, laughter still traceable in her smile and the relaxed position of her fair brows, and fixed her boyfriend with those brown eyes, so fiery and focused. Intensity that was a different breed than Peter’s but the same species. “What?” She asked, her voice soft with a slight drawl, eyes shining. The typical drawl that only came out when she was too at ease to notice or care. the one that Peter thought was adorable, not that he would ever admit it.

“What?” He responded. He wouldn’t typically describe himself as soft in any sense (except everyone knows that he is soft, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. But actions speak louder than words), but the atmosphere of the night and the reality of his arms in a careful loop around MJ’s waist demanded something a bit “atypical”.

“You were just staring at me.”

“Who says I was staring? You just caught me looking.”

“Right,” Michelle said, laying her head down on her boyfriend’s chest again. The motion seemed casual enough, but Peter knew that MJ had chosen this position deliberately to present her attentive ears. (Which naturally, he exposed after putting her hair behind her ears moments before they started their little banter). It was a gesture that said ‘ _I’m listening’._

“So, what if _I_ was staring?” Peter relented after a moment. “I _like_ looking at you, Jones. Isn’t that common knowledge at this point?”

“I guess so”. She smirked, “Just like hearing you admit it.”

There was something so smug in that remark, and Peter could just see the smirk on her face without even looking at her. He let out a laugh, a quick huff of a thing that he knew MJ could feel reverberating in his chest. “Little shit.”

“No, you,” She said

“Wow. harsh, Jones.”

“You were staring at me like that for a solid month before we started dating. I get to say that.”

“no idea what you’re talking about.” Peter trailed his finger up and down the length of his girlfriend’s back, tracing the ridges of her spine through her cotton t-shirt. He was acutely aware of her chest against his own, expanding and contracting with every breath he took. They were sharing a chest cavity (except the little extra masses that adorned MJ’s), the same breaths, the same heartbeat, the same feeling.

 _‘But you kept doing little things for me and covering for me even before I thought of you that way’_ Peter thought.

Michelle shifted. She was now facing her boyfriend directly, her long tanned arms folded delicately across his chest, her graceful hands resting laxly at his elbows. Their faces were only a few inches apart. She could count the freckles that sprayed Peter’s nose, if she wanted to.

_One, two._

“Maybe you didn’t think i noticed the glances,” Michelle said.

_Three, four._

“But it was like a split second of television static.” Her fingers were a whisper against the hollow of Peter’s throat, where his pulse thundered. No matter how used to this he got, his blood would always be in relentless, roaring rebellion.

_Five, six._

“I would have had to be completely blind not to see it.” MJ didn’t seem to really be hearing what she was saying. It was that glorious lack of restraint, just then, that told Peter this was real.

_Seven, eight._

“You’re impossible not to notice, babe.” Because Michelle Jones was a paradigm of self-control whenever she felt like it. Something that Peter could barely comprehend, but understood enough to know the beauty of his girlfriend letting go and letting lose with him. And also, the fact that she felt comfortable enough with him to open up and let herself be vulnerable.

All of this was real.

_Nine, ten._

“I love you, Em.”

Silence.

A shared heartbeat that stuttered.

A shared breath that was held.

A new arrangement of words that Peter had never said before.

He put it out in the universe without helping, it came so naturally for him that he just…

_Said the words._

But Peter did not shy away from his words (he was never one to do so), nor from the look that Michelle was now giving him. But the machinery that made him function seemed to have momentarily stalled. Peter Parker usually did not care much for words, but he always meant each one of them. Everything he felt was expressed through the slam of a car door, or the harsh slant of his brow, or the careful hand on MJ’s small back when she passed, or touching Ned’s arm whenever he wanted to tell him something without scaring him, or patting his aunt’s legs for her to put her feet on his lap and let him massage them after a long work day.

But, whatever he did articulate often came out with sharp breaths or rough edges.

And it always came out true. Both knew with unwavering certainty that what he’d said was authentic. And they also knew that the words had gone between them unsaid for the three months they’d been dating. Never spoken, never acknowledged, but always present.

Always there.

And yet, Peter knew that saying the words out loud was something entirely different than simply knowing them.

Michelle clearly knew it too. Her eyes were slightly widened, locked on Peter’s. She was perfectly still saved for his heartbeat racing against Peter’s chest.

“You…”

MJ knew just as well as her boyfriend that this was love. She had to. Because she knew that Peter didn’t do casual, and she had pursued this anyway.

but Michelle, he, knew, had always been one to think that love was a privilege. Love was a rarity, a luxury that she, for a long time, never believed she deserved. But _dear god_ , if she didn’t deserve it, then who did?

_Yup, he was so in love with her._

Peter had always been aware of the significance that this relationship held for Michelle, and he knew that it could be delicate work at times. Both were stubborn and temperamental in opposite ways, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he had worked hard to avoid overstepping her boundaries and breaking what they had.

Now, Peter could feel that he stood on the cusp of the line. He held MJ’s gaze, not backing down from his words, but not pushing them any further, either.

“You love me,” She said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“That’s what I said.” He did not need to say that he meant it.

“You love me…”

“You deaf in both ears now?” Peter reached up and softly flicked his girlfriend’s exposed ear. This gesture, so small and boyish, diffused the tension between them, and MJ laughed softly. “yeah, I do.”

“I just…” She blew out a breath and leaned closer to him, resting her forehead against her boyfriend’s. Her loose strands lightly tickled his skin. “I can’t say I was expecting that.”

“I try to keep you on your toes.”

Michelle laughed again. that laugh. “It works.”

“So, you gonna say it back, Jones?” He murmured, a teasing cadence to his voice as he lifted a brow.

She leaned in without a word, but Peter pulled back, just slightly. A sharp smile playing at his lips.

A small groan under his girlfriend’s breath. “Don’t be impossible, Parker.”

“Say it back,” He whispered. It was not a challenge. “Tell me you love me, Chelle.”

_Yes, he pulled the ‘nickname I’m only allowed to call you’ card_

“Say my name.” MJ’s hands came to rest at either side of Peter’s neck. “Say my name, and I’ll say it back.”

“Michelle.” They shared a breath. They shared a heartbeat.

They shared a feeling.

MJ’s eyes met Peter’s, two different breeds of brown. “Peter Parker,” he murmured, “I love you.” Another breath. And then, Again, _“I love you.”_

And then their lips were slanted against each other.

Peter could not pinpoint the exact moment the kiss went from tenderness to urgency. He could not recall, exactly, when MJ had removed his shirt. He was sure of rapid breathing and her fingers digging into his back and the only important thing in the world being _get closer to Michelle._

_Michelle, MJ, Em. there was something glorious about it._

Peter had somehow come to be sitting upright, hands returned to his girlfriend’s spine. Her lips were restless against his. And then somehow, he was standing, holding her up and against him by bracing his hands on her thighs. Michelle was surprised but not entirely unpleased, evident in the vise of her legs around her boyfriend’s waist and her firm grip at the back of his neck.

There was something so typical in the way Peter and MJ were together in that moment, the way she nipped at his upper lip, the way he felt aware of every fiber of her jeans beneath his hands, though it didn’t feel exactly the same as any other night of kisses and touches. Perhaps that was the novelty of words, the simple magic they worked.

Peter went to the stairs, still holding MJ, kissing her, and began the ascent. As if it were the only natural way to continue. When they reached the top, he stumbled a little in his urgency, and her back bumped against the wall with a dull thud. She broke the kiss just enough to laugh.

That laugh.

And then they were in his room (technically the room was both of theirs, whenever MJ stayed at the Parkers), and her feet were on the floor and her back was against the wall again, deliberately this time, and there was a rush of clothes being removed and kisses being stolen between each shed article. Peter considered each new explorable inch of Michelle’s tawny skin a blessing. He did not take this blessing for granted.

It was the two of them stumbling to bed in each other’s arms, and it was him not having to ask if she was okay with this, because the answer was in her kisses and her grip that said ‘ _right now, we are each other’s’._

It was them tangling clumsily together among the sheets, and it was MJ laughing as Peter pretended he wasn’t struggling with his first time putting on a condom.

That _laugh._

It wasn’t perfect. Michelle winced. Peter had to exert a surprising amount of willpower not to embarrass himself immediately. He leaned in to kiss his girlfriend, and their foreheads knocked together.

But somehow, impossibly, it was also perfect. The two found a rhythm together. A rhythm in itself flawed, but one that worked for them. The mechanics of it weren’t important to either of them. The way their bodies worked together wasn’t seamless, and neither expected it to be so, but their understanding of one another was.

All that mattered was that _understanding_ , and the desire to explore one another.

Peter discovered a spot just beneath the left corner of MJ’s jaw that made her gasp and grip his shoulders whenever he kissed it. Her fingers wandered over his back, journeying along the memorized paths of the muscles that adorned his sometimes tensed back whenever she touched a specific spot.

There was the sense that this could last for an eternity. In a way it did, in the way that a piece of Peter would now always belong to Michelle, and a piece of her would always belong to him.

This little eternity, so anticipated and so idealized, was messy. Clumsy. A bit too loud (on MJ’s part). A bit too much fingernails digging into skin (on Peter’s part). It was as many first times were.

Never perfect.

They wouldn’t have had it any other way.

–––––

Hours later, or perhaps, minutes later, or perhaps, seconds later, or perhaps, when no time had passed at all; the lovers lay on their backs in bed. Their hands were loosely entwined, and both stared up at the dark ceiling. Peter laid completely naked, while Michelle had only the thin cotton sheet strewn haphazardly across her torso.

“Not half bad, Parker,” She said, her voice loud in contrast to the previous comfortable silence.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe, like, only twenty percent bad.”

That made Peter laugh. MJ knew it would. And good _god,_ that laugh. it would make her do something stupid one of these days, she just knew it.

“I wouldn’t say twenty,” He mused. “Ten, at most.”

“Agree to disagree.”

“I don’t know, Pete. Didn’t sound like you were disagreeing when you nearly came in the first twenty seconds.”

“Sounded like you were disagreeing in the first ten seconds when I-”

“Alright, alright,” She relented. “Agree to disagree, then.”

He grinned and turned his head to look at his girlfriend, her elegant profile highlighted by the moonlight streaming in through the window. “Say it again.”

She was facing him now. “What? Agree to disagree?”

“No, Einstein. What you said earlier.”

“Oh.” A pause. Then, with an easy smile, “You said it first.”

“The fuck does that matter?”

“Oh, a Parker curse” She laughed “Just putting it on record.”

“Whatever. Just say it, Jones.”

“I love you, Peanut Butter.”

A groan, “Now say it again.”

“I love you.” Michelle propped herself up on one elbow to look at her boyfriend, though she made sure their fingers were still linked. “What is this obsession with those words all of a sudden? She raised an eyebrow “Just this afternoon you told me to go step on a lego.”

Peter raised an eyebrow too, mirroring her. “Don’t think that would be so bad. long as you weren’t barefoot.”

MJ rolled her eyes. “Don’t be stupid, Dork. Answer me.”

Peter supposed it was the freedom with which his girlfriend now used the expression. The rare freedom that he so adored on her. She sounded so natural when she said it, like god had shaped her lips for the sole purpose of telling him that she loved him.

Every other function was secondary.

He gave a shit-eating grin. “I just like hearing _you_ admit it.”

The pillow MJ hit him with was sudden and delightful. It reminded him of what they were, a couple of lovers? Soulmates? who loved each other, and loved enjoying one another. “Nerd,” She said.

Peter laughed. “Hey, use your fucking words, _Jones_.” He tackled her, with perhaps a bit too much gusto. The two toppled off the bed, laughing and wrestling like a couple of kids. He held down her wrist to prevent another pillow attack and cut off a couple curses by kissing her softly. “Use them to say it again.”

A playful sigh, “I’ll say it as many times as you want,” Michelle said, still bubbling with quiet laughter. Beautiful. “Just as long as you say it back.”

Peter Parker usually did not care much for words.

But he figured perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if he did.

As long as they came from the love of his life.

In the form of her smile and her bright eyes as she watches him.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed it!!!!
> 
> Had so much fun writing it and thinking of banter and lots of flirting.
> 
> As always, feedback and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> Find me on twitter as @/aftrglcws and occasionally as @/loversatire


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